Daredevil: Devil-May-Care
by Donnamour1969
Summary: NOW COMPLETE. One hot summer night, when Matt gets home, Karen is there waiting for him. Set post-Season3. Romance/Drama. Rated T/M for adult content.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is my first story for** _ **Daredevil.**_ **I have adored this show from the beginning, but never thought of writing fanfiction for it until after Season 3. I had really hoped we would see Matt and Karen finally get together for real, but since that didn't happen, I felt the need to write what I wish would on the show. I am only familiar with the Netflix series, not the comics, so I'm sticking to what I know. Thanks for taking a chance! Hope you enjoy it. *Please note, this chapter is rated a hard "T" for adult content, but I try very hard to be tasteful.**

" **Devil-may-care"**

 **Chapter 1**

"Karen."

Daredevil had sensed her even before he'd surreptitiously entered his apartment. Odd he could still smell her light floral fragrance over the raw pungency of a hot summer night in Hell's Kitchen, let alone over his own sweat. He could hear her familiar heartbeat loud and clear, however, lightly accelerated along with her breathing. He flattered himself to believe it was because of him, but then he supposed it was entirely plausible, considering his own similar reaction to her.

He took off his red helmet and was Matt Murdock again.

"You're wearing your suit," she said, rising from the couch at his entrance. "I'm glad."

He was glad too, he had to admit. His red armor offered him a bit more protection, and he was tired of feeling like hell every night just for the principle of the thing. There was only so much healing meditation could do.

"Yeah, but it's not mine. Mahoney swiped it before the Feds could get it when the hospital took it off Poindexter. They had pictures of it and him in it, so he figured he'd save it from rotting in some FBI evidence locker. I've gotta admit to having mixed feelings about wearing it, but until I find someone else to make more of these…" His voice trailed off, while he tried to suppress the painful memory of how he'd lost his last armorer.

"On the other hand," he finished, a small smile ghosting over his lips, "it's like my own personal sauna in this thing. All I could think of on my way home was taking a cold shower. You mind?"

She chuckled. He was kind of flushed. "Not at all. Take your time."

He started for the bathroom, but paused and turned back. "Wait. What's up?"

He could sense her shrug, heard her heart flutter. Her words came out in a breathless rush. "Nothing really. It's just the AC is out in my apartment, and since it's the weekend, no way the super is taking care of it tonight. And since you still owe me for back rent on this place, I figured you could repay me in air conditioning. I still had your key, so…"

Obviously there was something else that had brought her there, something that made her nervous, edgy. Maybe she'd feel like talking when he got out of the shower.

"Ok, that sounds like a fair trade. Give me a minute. And uh, help yourself to a beer why don't you." His tone was wry, for of course he knew that she was already drinking one.

She shook her head in wonder. "I won't even ask how you knew."

"It's a curse," he said, and resumed his mission of getting out of the godawful suit and into an icy shower. "Save me one of those, will ya?" he threw over his shoulder. A cold beer had been second on his wish list after the shower he'd longed for, although having Karen there had quickly replaced both at the top position.

Alone in Matt's living room, Karen sat down heavily on the couch. She set her half empty bottle on the coffee table, took a few deep breaths to try to calm her nerves. She'd second-guessed her coming here the moment she saw him in his Daredevil suit. Things were certainly better between them, and their new honesty, his repeated apologies, and his willingness to restart the law firm with her and Foggy had gone a long way toward encouraging her forgiveness. But blind as he was, she knew he'd seen right through her lame excuse for showing up in his apartment at two AM, and she wondered if those super senses of his could tell it wasn't just the heat that made her unable to sleep.

Their old attraction was still there, heavy and tense between them, like the air that had settled on the city the last few nights. The way he touched her when he didn't have to, the way he stood or sat too close to her—her own instincts were screaming that he wanted her too. Maybe, after all he'd done, he was hesitant to make a move, fearing she wasn't ready to resume what they'd so sweetly begun before Elektra, Fisk, and the collapse of a building had so rudely interrupted.

But she _was_ ready, and she needed somehow to let him know that she welcomed his kisses again, and anything else he wanted to give her. Matt Murdock made her tremble, made her heart race, made her shy when she had no cause to be after all the bad things she'd seen and done. He made her feel…new. She'd told him not long ago that she'd liked how he saw her as innocent. He was her knight in shining red armor, making her feel worthy of his protection, worthy of the tender way he kissed her, respected her. Every woman wanted that, no matter how independent they were. But suppose he didn't feel that way toward her anymore? Had her confessions disillusioned him? She knew he wanted her physically, but did he want to have a relationship with her now, considering, well, _everything?_

She looked toward the bathroom, heard the shower and smiled at Matt's groan of pleasure as the spray hit him. An image of his scarred bare torso flashed in her mind, water streaming over his toned chest and stomach, and she felt her face grow even warmer.

As much as Karen feared for his life, he was trying to make a difference. Selfishly, she wanted him all to herself, safe from the nightly dangers of the streets. But part of her forgiveness had come with her acceptance that Daredevil was who he was, equally coexisting with Matt Murdock. And if she were honest with herself, she loved them both equally.

Matt turned off the water and slicked back his dark hair. It had been a blessedly light night of vigilantism. He'd only had to beat up a pair of muggers and kick the ass of a liquor store thief, but the heat had been more draining than if he'd gone eight rounds with Wilson Fisk. The coldness had revived him, energized him, cleared his head of the city haze, and now all he could think about was why Karen was really here, and why her heart was still beating like a hummingbird's.

He dried off quickly and donned a t-shirt and sweatpants, padding barefoot back out into the living room. Karen was in the kitchen.

He heard the smile in her voice. "You look cooler. You hungry?"

"Famished. Is that Mr. Lu's I smell?"

He'd caught the scent of Chinese takeout earlier, but he'd ignored it in favor of Karen's perfume.

"How did you-? Never mind. Have a seat. I just heated it up."

She brought in two plates and he wondered where she'd carried the beer bottle she set down before him. Then he remembered her family had owned a diner.

It was all he could do not to dive in, his hunger almost overwhelming his curiosity about Karen's late-night visit. He took a long draught of beer instead.

"What's going on, Karen? Not that I'm not happy to see you—and your Kung Pao Chicken."

She swallowed, staring down at her plate. Asking a man if he wants to sleep with you was surprisingly awkward, she thought, and stifled the urge to laugh hysterically. Asking a man to sleep with you _and_ restart your relationship was mortifying.

He sighed and reached for her hand. On impulse, he brought it to his lips, and he felt his own heart take flight at the sensuality of her skin beneath his mouth. She reached out and lightly touched his damp hair, and, as one mind, they both remembered the last time he'd been beside her with wet hair. It had been in the pouring rain, and he'd kissed her slowly, sweetly, as they'd both wanted from the moment they'd met.

"Karen," he whispered, raising his head. And for the first time, she was the one to initiate.

Ordinarily he would have been able to predict such a sudden move from an opponent, would have been instantly ready for a countermeasure. But when Karen Page swooped in, Matt was taken completely off guard, and for a moment, his mouth was still beneath hers. She moved her lips over the seam of his, tentatively entreating entrance with the soft brush of her tongue. He opened to her with a small gasp of pleasure, his surprise quickly giving way to desire.

Their kisses before had been almost reverent, pure, though filled with deep feeling and romantic longing. This— _this_ was no first kiss, and neither of them was in the mood for taking it slow. Matt's hand slid into her hair-baby soft, like corn silk—the other lowered to her breast, high and firm and beautiful. A noise of pleasure vibrated in her throat.

He ravaged her mouth with his, drinking her in like smooth scotch. She'd worn a thin sundress against the heat, and when he pulled her onto his lap, he caressed her long legs, inching slowly upwards to rest beneath the skirt of her dress. Her hands gripped his shoulders in anticipation.

"Matt," she breathed, her voice shaky with passion. He kissed his way from her mouth to her jaw, then to the small shell of her ear. He couldn't tell whose heart pounded louder.

"Come to bed with me," he whispered. She stilled and opened her eyes to look at him, so close she could see the lamplight reflecting in his blank brown gaze.

"And?" she prompted.

He bent to trace her delicate clavicle with his tongue, and she shivered in reaction, his light beard soft against her skin.

"I'm sure you know what happens in a man's bed, Karen." Matt's dry tone and sensual nuzzling into the hollow between her breasts was proving highly irresistible. She gritted her teeth and stuck to her guns.

"Yes…but _after_ that. What…then?"

He lifted his head from her chest, realization dawning in his passion dazed mind. She wanted some kind of commitment from him. He stopped then, his hands stilled on her silky thighs, and not for the first time, he wished he could see her face.

"What color are your eyes?" he asked.

"Blue," she replied, her voice hesitant at the sudden shift of topic.

"And your hair? I'm guessing blond."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" she asked in mock offense. "I'm dumb? I like to have more fun?"

He grinned. "Well, we both know you're not dumb, and I'm hoping to find out the other very soon."

She smacked his arm, just like she used to do to her brother when he annoyed her. She frowned. "You're changing the subject. I-I need to know if knowing my secrets has put you off of anything more…meaningful, because if sex is all you want, I don't—"

"I'm not put off," he said, his sudden humor giving way to his usual solemnity. "On the contrary…I'm in love with you, Karen."

"You are?" she managed, awestruck.

"Yes," he whispered against her lips before he kissed her again.

Their mutual passion overcame them, and Karen found herself easily lifted in his arms and carried to Matt's bedroom like a scene from a Harlequin novel. Somehow, as he laid her down on his bed, she didn't find it the least bit corny; it was actually one of the most romantic moments of her life.

The bedroom was dark, with only the faint light from the living room allowing her to see him pull his t-shirt over his head, step out of his sweatpants before he kneeled on the bed in only his underwear. She sat up on her elbows to watch him, their excited breathing loud in the room.

He bent and found her mouth again, while her hands smoothed over his bare skin. His torso was riddled with scars, and she'd remembered from her glimpse of it in the church basement that his otherwise beautiful body looked like a New York subway map. She felt him flinch a little when she inadvertently touched one of his more recent wounds.

"I'm sorry," she said hoarsely, jerking her hand away.

"Occupational hazard." He held the offending hand. "Don't worry about it. You don't know how good it feels to be touched without malicious intent for a change."

She smiled. "I'll try to be gentle with you."

His rare, dimpled smile lit up the dimness. "Be as rough as you want; I can take it."

He lifted the hem of her dress and he slowly moved it upwards. Soon her dress and lingerie joined his discarded clothes on the floor. She lay expectantly as he pulled down his boxers, feeling faint with desire and the surrealism of the moment. _Matt Murdock was making love to her._ She'd barely allowed herself to dream of this.

He touched her reverently now, cupping, stroking, learning her body with his hands. She shuddered and was embarrassed to hear her own moan when he found a particularly sensitive place. His lips followed his hands and her shyness was forgotten with the sensations he awakened within her. She squirmed and tensed and cried out her release just before he took her, joining their bodies with such sweet intensity that he had to pause before he blacked out at the pleasure of it.

He kissed her lips, tasted her tears.

"You okay?" he asked huskily.

"Yes," she said. "Please…don't stop."

She lifted her hips in encouragement and he groaned. Then, he began to move…

 **A/N: If you want to read more, please tell me what you think. If there is enough interest, I will write another chapter. Thank you for reading!**

 **(PS: If you like my writing, I have also written for** _ **The Mentalist, Moonlight, Sleepy Hollow, Buffy,**_ **and** _ **Star Wars.**_ **I'd love for you to check them out!)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I so appreciate all the favorites and follows, and especially the reviews. They have encouraged me to continue this, at least one more chapter.**

 **Chapter 2**

Matt knew it was morning by the changing sounds of the city. The increased traffic on the street below. The rolling up of store-front gates. The mother down the hall making pancakes. The stirrings of the warm woman beside him.

Eyes still closed, he smiled, and remembered. Last night had been incredible, and not just because of the sex. For the first time in his life, he'd felt a complete closeness to another human being, an intensity, a unity, that he'd felt in both his body and mind. He'd had stirrings of it with Elektra, but because he'd never completely trusted her, there had always been that missing piece that would have made their union perfect. With Karen, nothing had been missing.

He knew the moment she awoke in his arms, sensed the momentary tenseness as she oriented herself to where she was. He felt her smile against his chest where she lay nestled against him, her soft (blonde, he now knew) hair tickled his skin, and one long, slim leg wrapped sensually around one of his hairy ones.

"Good morning," he said, his voice hoarse from sleep. He kissed the top of her sweet-smelling head.

She brushed her lips against his flat nipple, and he felt the instant hardening of his body in reaction. "Morning," she said shyly.

He wondered if she'd object to his rolling her to her back and giving her a proper good-morning. It had only been a couple hours since he'd taken her for the second time in the night, and he certainly didn't want to scare her away with his lustful appetite. But it had been a rather long dry streak as far as sex was concerned…

When her hand caressed him under the covers, he had his answer, and he was more than happy to take her up on her invitation.

With a gruff chuckle of joy, he fulfilled his most recent fantasy, and covered her body with his.

 ** _A half-hour later…_**

"Great minds think alike," Matt said, startling her from an exhausted doze. He was referring of course to their mutual idea leading to their passionate coupling.

"Hmmm…then you must be thinking that you're starving," she replied. He reached over to touch her mischievous grin, and she kissed his fingertips.

"All I have in the house is left-over Chinese food," he murmured regretfully, the scent of maple syrup still lingering from someone else's breakfast. "You caught me before my weekly grocery run."

She leaned up on one elbow to look at him. His hair was a wild tumble over his forehead, lending him a boyish air, though his sensual lips framed by dark stubble intimately reminded her he was all man. _And oh, what that mouth can do_ , she thought, her skin still flushed from their recent morning exercise. She knew if she looked at herself in the mirror now, she'd be able to see constellations of stubble burn in strategic areas of her body.

"Chinese will do. You want it hot or cold?" She moved to rise, but he grabbed her hand.

"Stay here. The least I can do after you bought me dinner is bring you breakfast in bed."

"Ok," she said, settling back against the pillows. "Don't bother heating mine. I'll eat it right out of the carton."

"A girl after my own heart."

He kissed her lazily on the mouth before swinging his legs out of bed. He paused to pull on his discarded sweatpants before padding shirtless to the kitchen, and to her amazement, he was whistling under his breath. Karen admired the view from behind, her eyes caressing him with love and banked desire.

Last night for her had been nothing short of miraculous. For the first time in her life she understood what _making love_ meant. Sure, she'd had plenty of sex in her life-more than she wished she'd had, in hindsight, at least with the wrong people. But somehow, with Matt, she had been reborn, and every lover in her past had faded from memory. What was between them now was pure, untarnished, the hurt between them healed and forgiven.

He'd said he loved her, and she'd been so overwhelmed with this impossibility, that she'd been unable to form the words, hoping her actions in the bedroom would convey her true feelings. But in the light of day, she knew she had to summon the courage to lay bare her heart and speak them aloud.

They sat cross-legged on his bed, sharing cold low mein from a box. It was bright and sunny in the room, promising another hot day. She stared again at his handsome face in the light, at his chest with all its scars and fading bruises. She felt sad and afraid for him, but also proud. He was risking his life to help people, a hero, though he no doubt hated that word. She remembered all the times he had saved _her_ , and she hadn't even known it was him.

"I can feel your eyes boring into me, you know," he said wryly between mouthfuls of long noodles. "It's very…disconcerting."

"I'm not sorry. You're nice to look at."

"I'm sure you are too. These days, I'm more of a hands-on kind of guy."

She blushed, and wondered if he knew. "Blindness has its own rewards. I bet that line has paid off for you many times."

He chuckled and shrugged sheepishly, and she detected a faint hint of color in his cheeks. She leaned forward and kissed him, pleased beyond measure to see him so happy, so…free…

"Do you have plans for the day?" Matt asked her idly, once the box was empty and they lay entwined again on his pillows. His strong fingers drew slow circles on her upper arm.

She thought immediately of the overflowing hamper at her place, the empty refrigerator, the dishes she'd left in the sink, the thick layer of dust on her coffee table.

"Not really," she said.

"You want to…uh…hang out with me today?" His shy request was endearing, and she fell in love with him all over again.

"Yes," she whispered simply, for she would love that above all things.

He stifled a yawn. "First thing, I could really use a nap."

She yawned her reply and he grinned, showing those elusive dimples, pulling her body more comfortably against his.

They awoke a few hours later, showered, and he took her against the tiled wall while the water streamed over them. They dressed and held hands as they strolled through Hell's Kitchen before it got too hot, ate Rueben sandwiches at his favorite greasy spoon, carried home his groceries like they'd been doing this forever. He'd navigated the store and the city as if he weren't blind at all, his dark glasses the only thing even hinting at his disability, though Karen now suspected it was all just for show. Blind attorney by day, superhero by night.

"You know, Luke Cage doesn't hide who he is," she said later, drinking bottled sodas on her front stoop. It was early evening, and he'd walked her home. Soon it would be time to don his devil suit. Down the street, someone had opened a fire hydrant and the neighborhood children were playing in it, squealing with glee.

"You're right about blindness giving me an advantage. It's funny how people think a blind man can't hear either. And if the bad guys knew I was really blind, they would exploit that weakness first thing." He smirked. "And Cage doesn't have any weaknesses that I'm aware of…"

"Except maybe Claire," she added.

"Hmmm." That was about as noncommittal as you could get, though his brief smile before he took a swig of Coke revealed his knowing amusement.

Matt took her hand, thinking it best to change the subject.

"Aside from the heat, this was an incredible day." And that wasn't an exaggeration, he thought. Just being with this woman, holding her hand, sharing a meal, walking through the park, had been so damn normal that he was still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

 _Don't borrow trouble, Matthew_. He could almost hear Father Lantom advising him.

"Dare I say it was… _perfect?_ " Karen ventured bravely, setting down her empty bottle.

His throat tightened, his stomach clenching at the reminder of the last time they'd sat on her stoop. It had been perfect then too, till everything went all to shit.

"Now you've done it: you used the _P_ word." He forced a smile to his face, but neither of them was fooled. They both remembered the hell they'd gone through to literally and figuratively get back to this place.

"Hey," she said, and he felt her two warm hands on both his cheeks. He knew she was looking into his dull, opaque eyes. Not for the first time, he wished he could show her his true feelings just by a look.

"That date we had," she continued, "it _was_ perfect. Maybe not the day after or the day after that; but _today_ was, and I'm not afraid to say it, because I know this time will be different. _We're_ different. And I'm not scared that by saying it I'll jinx it somehow, because I trust you, I've forgiven you, and because-" and here she took a shallow breath, and he could hear her heart stuttering, heard her swallow over a suddenly dry mouth—"because I love you. And I happen to think those words are like a—a security blanket. As long as we remember how we feel, nothing will ever be able to come between us. We'll be safe and warm and happy."

Matt's own heart was racing. He'd tried not to be disappointed last night when she hadn't said it right after he had, and he got that he'd taken her by surprise, but still, it had taken a lot for him to put his true feelings out there. Funny how those three little words could fill him with such complete joy now, such security, like she'd said. He felt his eyes water, and he blinked to keep from embarrassing himself.

He kissed her then, not holding back his love and passion, praying she would feel in his kiss what he couldn't convey with his eyes. Soon they were breathing heavily, their hands beginning to wander, and he was in grave danger of giving the neighborhood children an inappropriate eyeful. Reluctantly, he pulled away, his forehead and nose touching hers as they both struggled for control.

"I'm thinking this security blanket of ours should probably be made of titanium, considering what we might come up against," he teased.

He sensed her smile, shivered as her hands ran lovingly through his hair.

"Oh, it's much stronger than that," she whispered. And the strength of her kiss made him believe.

 **THE END**

 **A/N: Thanks for reading. I would love to hear what you think**.


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